


Wrong Room

by pr3tty_g1rl5



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Sexual Content, Strip Tease, fem!Kylo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 13:26:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11082522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pr3tty_g1rl5/pseuds/pr3tty_g1rl5
Summary: “Who are you?” she says, and Rey’s better than this—she’s seen plenty of pretty girls, even if none of them have been quite as striking as this one—her knees go weak and it takes her a minute to understand the question.“I’m Rey.”“Yeah, um. Sorry—you’re not the one I requested.”“I’m...not? What do you mean?”“I didn’t ask for you, I asked for somebody...else.”





	Wrong Room

She’s late, she’s late, can these people in the hallway find a room already or just _move_? Rey’s got an important client, booked in the special room—room 8. The room for high-paying clients who usually require a bit more room and attention than the usuals. She cannot be late, or this one will complain and she won’t get paid quite as well. Finally, she skids on the slick floor right outside door number 8, stopping herself on the door frame, straightening her silk robe and checking the straps of her heels. One more hair fluff, and she takes a deep breath while she turns the knob and enters the room. 

At first she doesn’t think anyone’s in there, but then a woman near the back corner turns and her eyes widen. A woman! She’s beautiful—all ebony waves and milky skin, striking facial features. Her eyebrows come up, and she’s walking towards Rey, her brown eyes intent, the pupils so wide that Rey can’t tell what color they are. 

“Who are you?” she says, and Rey’s better than this—she’s seen plenty of pretty girls, even if none of them have been quite as striking as this one—her knees go weak and it takes her a minute to understand the question. 

“I’m Rey.” 

“Yeah, um. Sorry—you’re not the one I requested.” 

“I’m...not? What do you mean?” 

“I didn’t ask for you, I asked for somebody...else.” 

“Oh. Well, this is certainly awkward, I apologize. I was told room 8, and that’s this room.” 

“It must have been a mistake, I specifically requested….a blonde—someone else.” 

Ouch. This makes her wince, and she stumbles backwards a few steps. The fabric of her robe comes open, of course it does, and when it parts all the way up her body she grins to herself, giving this woman a good glimpse of all of her, including peeks of the ridiculously revealing lingerie she’d donned for what she thought would be a high-paying client. Rey isn’t above fighting dirty for a paycheck.

“I won’t bother you then, and I’ll see to it that your request is properly filled.” She says, and turns to walk back to the door. 

She hears the sharp intake and slows, eyebrows raised to herself. 

“Stop.” The woman says. Her voice is rougher than it was a few minutes ago, and Rey obeys, turns her head, slowly, hiding the grin on her face. _Got her._ Rey adopts an innocent, open expression on her face, toying with the edge of her robe near the skin of her bare thighs, between her panties and the stockings. Predictably, the woman’s eyes flicker down to watch Rey’s fingers move, flicking the fabric, brushing against her golden skin. 

“I, uh. I think I’d like you to stay, after all.” she says, and she’s standing, but she might as well be falling to her knees as she speaks. Her voice is all out of sorts

“Oh?” Rey says, bringing her hands up to the upper edges of her robe. 

“Yeah. So you can, uh. I don’t know if you—what you’ve got...planned…” and her voice trails off as Rey slides the silk off her shoulders, letting it rest in the crook of her elbows, revealing the smooth skin of her back, the black lace band of her bra. 

“I’m not a girl who wastes time, I think you’ll find.” Rey says, letting her arms fall to her sides, dropping the robe entirely. She can see the look on the woman’s face, the way her mouth goes slack. Has this girl ever been to this kind of club before? Surely if she’s here, in the VIP room, she’s done this before. 

“Honey, sweet girl. Can you tell me your name?” Rey says, her voice quiet in the empty space of the room as she walks to a small table near the door. There’s a small sound system on the table. She presses a button on the front and music with a swingy beat begins to play quietly in the background. 

“Ah—it’s B—ah—Kylo. Kylo.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Kylo. You’re very lovely.” 

Kylo moves towards Rey, and it looks like she’s going to try and reach out, but she hesitates, looking up at Rey’s face with the question in her eyes. Hm. If she’s really new to this, Rey is going to make it good for her. She shakes her head and turns to face Kylo. 

“No touching. Not yet.” Rey says, and she can’t help the small smile that spreads across her lips as Kylo nods. How quickly the arrogant, self-assured woman lost her bravado in the face of some simple lingerie. 

And well, perhaps simple isn’t entirely accurate; it IS extremely revealing, sheer mostly, with strategic cutouts and well-placed lace flowers. But still—it’s hardly the most scandalous thing Rey’s ever worn. And she’s sure Kylo’s seen worse.

Kylo nods, looking suddenly uncomfortable in her frame. Like she doesn’t know what to do with her limbs. She’s not a frail woman, and she’s rather tall. Rey rather likes the idea (and the look) of the size difference between them, but it’s obvious Kylo is self-conscious about it.

“Can you grab that chair for me?” Rey points, slowly, extending each of the muscles in her arm deliberately and carefully. She’s well aware of the angles that are most advantageous to her, even in such trivial ways. Every second of this counts, as far as her paycheck is concerned. There are two ways this can go, if Kylo really is a newbie. She’ll either grossly overtip Rey, in her eagerness to please, or unknowingly undertip Rey, because she’s never been told how the scale works. Rey’s going to be sure to wow Kylo as thoroughly as she can, to assure that she does the former. 

Rey watches as Kylo fetches the chair. She’s well-built, to put it mildly, a fact that Rey has been unable to neglect. Kylo’s shoulders are bare and rounded where her tank top has exposed them, and she’s solid through her abs and waist, the back of her jeans hugging the curve of her backside delightfully. Then she’s picked the chair up, and she’s loping back to Rey, and the view is just as pretty from the front. Kylo’s got lovely, long black hair that falls in shiny waves around her face and shoulders, Rey’s already imagining all the ways she can pull it—and Kylo—around. The low, rounded neckline of her shirt shows off the tops of lovely, ripe breasts, likely a delicious handful each. Her lips...were surely built for sin. Thick and plush and pinker than they had any right to be. Perpetually shiny and swollen, likely due to the fact that she won’t stop licking and biting them. _Oh, darling_ , Rey thinks, _I’d be happy to do that for you here in a few minutes_.

Except she can’t, she knows that. Everybody knows the eternal rule of emotionless, contractual sex—you don’t kiss clients. Kylo will just have to show her what those lips can do….elsewhere. That’s certainly a sacrifice Rey thinks she can make. 

Kylo’s setting the chair down and leaning against the back, her forearms flexing deliciously, the front of her shirt gaping to reveal more of her rather appetizing cleavage. 

“Please, sit.” Rey gestures, stepping over her robe on the floor and stalking forward, smiling as Kylo swallows with great difficulty and backs up a little. “In the chair.” And Kylo’s complying, sitting carefully with her face turned towards Rey, her eyes focused sharp. 

Rey reaches up to run her hands through her own hair, pulling her fingers through the strands and letting them fall back against her neck and shoulders, tipping her head back. The movement pushes her breasts forward, emphasizing the gaps in the flowery lace where her skin is showing, begging to be stroked and kissed. 

Then she looks towards Kylo again, making her way closer, closer, to the beat of the music, until Rey’s standing between Kylo’s legs, and her thighs are so thick that she has to spread them wider so that they’re not touching Rey. The strappy heels put Rey above Kylo, forcing her eyes up to make eye contact, and from the way that Kylo’s eyes flicker around before finally settling on Rey’s...well, it’s clear that Kylo can’t decide where to look, really. Which is fine with Rey. She has no illusions about this, about whether or not Kylo’s here for her mind or her body. Her job is to catch her client’s eye and keep it, and the naked awe is quite flattering. 

“Have you ever had a lap dance?” Rey says, bringing her fingers up to the side of Kylo’s cheek. 

“Uh, no.” 

“I thought so.” 

Kylo frowns. “How did you—I’m not—” and then her words are cut off on a gasp as Rey plants herself firmly into Kylo’s lap. Kylo reaches out instinctively to fit her long fingers around Rey’s bare waist and pull her closer. The movement pushes their chests together, and Rey’s rather mesmerized by the feel of Kylo’s firm, full breasts against the lace of her bra. Rey smooths her hands into Kylo’s silky waves, tilting her head back so that Rey can whisper her next words into the warm hollow of Kylo’s throat, her tongue darting out to touch the thin skin where her pulse beats a furious rhythm. 

“Kylo, sweet. I’m going to teach you the first rule of receiving a lap dance.” Rey reaches down to pull Kylo’s hands off of her waist, stroking her fingers over the knuckles of Kylo’s hands as she tucks them under her legs. “No touching.” 

“I can’t—I’m not allowed to touch you? The whole time?” Kylo’s lips are fuller than they were when Rey arrived, her lower especially pouty and pink. Rey wants to bite it, to suck it into her mouth and turn it a pretty red color. Instead she shakes her head and trails her hands up Kylo’s chest, over her neck, sinking her fingers back into Kylo’s hair, scratching at her scalp. Kylo groans. 

“You’re not allowed to touch until I tell you.” Rey whispers, her breath hot in Kylo’s ear. She shivers, a whole body movement, as Rey nibbles on the shell. “But don’t worry,” Rey continues, pushing away from Kylo, hands on her shoulders so that she can roll her hips over Kylo’s, slow and firm to the beat of drum in the background. “I’ll make it worth your while.” 

Kylo groans again, tilting her head back as Rey continues to move over her, gripping Kylo’s shoulders, then her biceps, then her hips. Rey slides off her lap, moving around the chair to where Kylo’s head is hung limp, and she lets the bare skin on her ribs rub against Kylo’s cheek. Carefully, she runs the tip of her finger down the bridge of Kylo’s nose and over the plush skin of her parted lips. 

“Oh, hell.” Kylo growls, her eyes flying open to find Rey’s small, round breasts right above her face, and Rey knows what it looks like up close, all that lace and exposed skin. Kylo licks her lips and then exhales a shaky breath. Rey can feel the wet heat of it against her tightening nipples as she rocks herself back and forth, letting her bare skin rub against Kylo’s cheek as the music starts to pick up.

Kylo’s eyes are so eager, and the knowledge that she’s ready and worshipful sends wetness sliding down into Rey’s panties. Rey uses both hands to smooth over the skin of Kylo’s neck, down into the front of her tank top, pushing her fingers into the tight space of Kylo’s cleavage to wrap around the fleshy part of her breasts. This movement also brushes Rey’s breasts against Kylo’s face. Kylo’s arms tense and she rubs her face against the lace of Rey’s bra, back and forth slowly. Rey uses this distraction as an opportunity to pull the neckline of Kylo’s tank top down, snug under the cups of her bra before she’s drawing back, moving around Kylo to get a better look while she kneels between her legs. 

The shirt goes easy enough; she lets Kylo unpin her hands long enough to slide them through the sleeves, and then Rey spends some time exploring the pale expanse of Kylo’s torso— _what does she do for a living_ , Rey wonders, _that would require her to be this built?_ Her every muscle is beautifully defined, but her skin is silky smooth, her breasts firm as Rey sinks her fingers into the curve of each and squeezes gently. A handful, indeed. Rey snakes her hands around Kylo’s back, unsnapping the clasp and pulling the bra off as slowly as she can. Her mouth nearly waters as Kylo’s breasts bounce and settle once they’re freed. Kylo’s nipples are a delectable blushy pink, and Rey allows herself the luxury of nibbling her way first to one side, taking it into her mouth and sucking, worrying it with her teeth and tongue until Kylo is whimpering, and then leaving kisses and small bites along the way to the other, where Rey shows the same attention. 

While Rey’s got Kylo trapped, she sets to work on her jeans, unbuckling the belt and unzipping while she continues to lick and suck on her nipples, now damp, flushed and standing at attention. Kylo’s hips are moving under Rey’s, restlessly, and the movement makes it difficult for Rey to focus on both things at once, but she revels in the fact that Kylo’s arousal is clearly building. Unlike Rey’s smooth, lyrical movements, there’s a certain volatility to Kylo’s, like she’s barely containing herself.

“Lift your hips, Kylo, would you?” Rey says, tugging at the jeans until she understands and lifts up so Rey can peel the tight denim down Kylo’s legs. The slow reveal makes Rey bite her lip—if she’d thought Kylo’s upper body was tight, the lower is…..she can’t resist leaning in and rubbing her cheek against the inside of Kylo’s thigh as she pushes her jeans down to her ankles. Rey smooths her hands up and down Kylo’s legs a few times, letting her fingers creep just under the edges of Kylo’s (tight, good heavens) satiny boyshorts, reveling in the thick muscles of her thighs. 

Rather than having Kylo step out of her jeans so she can remove them, Rey leaves her ankles trapped and stands back up, bracing a knee on the chair between Kylo’s legs and sliding her thigh up the bare skin of Kylo’s rib. This action exposes the black lace of Rey’s panties, and between the sheerness of the floral lace and the strategically-placed cutouts, Kylo gets a fairly tantalizing view of all the exciting bits between Rey’s legs. 

With one hand braced against Kylo’s thigh, Rey slides a leg over her shoulder, letting the smooth skin of her leg rub against Kylo’s cheek now. It’s a fair bit bendy, this position, and it forces Rey’s torso taut, pulling her abs into definition and curving her waist to its tiniest angle. Kylo’s large frame is by no means small or fragile, which puts Rey’s slimmer form into sharp contrast, making her look delicate next to Kylo. Kylo seems to notice this as well, and she brings her hands up, tentatively, to pet the line of Rey’s stomach and wrap her fingers around Rey’s small waist. 

Yeah—the rule was no touching, but Kylo’s hands are so warm, and they’re snaking down to tease at the waistband of Rey’s panties...Rey lets it slide and rolls her hips, curling her leg around Kylo’s neck and pulling herself up closer so that the long line of Kylo’s nose is nearly touching the sheer lace of Rey’s panties as she dances. Kylo licks her lips, her hands twitching where they’re clutching Rey’s hips, almost like she’s trying her best not to yank Rey’s hips closer and devour her whole. 

Rey allows it when Kylo’s nose brushes against her clit through the lace, enjoying the jolt of electricity it sends racing up her spine, and then she unwraps herself from Kylo’s body, climbing back down off the chair and walking a few steps away so she can lose the panties and...perhaps the bra too, since Kylo’s behaving so nicely. 

Rey twists and turns with the music a little, running her hands over her body, trying to judge how each angle will affect Kylo. If she twists this way and digs her nails into the skin of her hips close to the top of her panties, she finds, Kylo’s breath catches and her breasts bloom with a fresh pink blush. However, Rey twists around and bends forward so that Kylo’s looking at her pussy from behind, shifting her weight from leg to leg so that Kylo gets a nice, varied view, and Kylo _loses_ it, gasping and leaning forward, every muscle in her body straining towards Rey. 

Rey smiles devilishly, dancing her fingers down her thighs and then back up, toying with the elastic band of her panties, reveling in the small, pained noise that Kylo makes as Rey continues to swivel her hips in time to the music. 

Slowly, so slowly, Rey peels her panties down over the curve of her backside, letting the rolled fabric catch at the top of her thighs and stay there for a moment as Rey bounces her hips. Kylo whines as Rey’s cheeks jiggle, the curves of them emphasized and enhanced by the tight elastic. Once she’s satisfied that Kylo’s had enough, Rey continues sliding the black lace down her thighs, following it down as far as she can reach with her hands before letting it slip the rest of the way and pool around her glossy heels. And then she lets her hands journey back up her legs, smoothing up the outside of her calves, venturing towards the insides of her thighs before she’s pulling her cheeks apart and rolling her hips, the glossy petals of her pussy blossoming under Kylo’s rapt attention. 

When Rey makes her way back to standing and turns, she’s somehow completely unsurprised to find Kylo’s hands occupied, one clamped on the edge of the chair, the other cupped around her pubic mound through her panties. 

Good. This is good. She sways her hips as she walks back towards Kylo where she’s squirming in her chair, settling on top of Kylo’s lap and leaning in to whisper in her ear. 

“Are you being a good girl for me, Kylo?” 

Kylo whines at this, a harsh, needy sound. Her hands move to clench around Rey’s hips and rock them into her own, hard. So hard that Rey yelps, brings her hands up to Kylo’s shoulders. 

“I’ve never been a good girl.” Kylo growls, _growls_ in Rey’s ear, and Rey’s panties are gone, there’s nowhere to hide the slickness between her thighs, especially now that Kylo’s tight grip is preventing Rey from doing anything but rolling her hips into Kylo’s. 

_Who’s in charge here?_ Rey thinks. With her arms wrapped around Kylo’s shoulders as she grinds her hips down, Rey decides it might not matter anymore. Why are they both wearing so many clothes? 

Rey manages to pull Kylo’s hands off of her hips for a moment to guide them up around her back and let Kylo’s fingers brush against the strap of her bra. Rey bites at the skin of Kylo’s throat and fights to steady her voice as she groans into the long, white curve of her neck.

“Take it off, now.”

Kylo doesn’t waste any time, the clasp undone and the straps sliding down her arms, but Rey is leaning back, her arm crossed over her chest to hold the bra in place for a moment. Kylo’s eyes are wide, fixed on the shadow of Rey’s meager cleavage as she brings both hands up to push her breasts together, wrapping her fingers around the entirety of each through the loosened fabric of her bra. With the clasp undone and the cutouts askew, the only things that are hiding Rey’s nipples from Kylo’s eyes are the palms of Rey’s hands, and as she lets her arms drop so that the straps can slide down and off, Kylo’s lips part in obvious awe. The intensity of her gaze makes Rey blush, though she is no stranger to appreciative attention. 

And then Kylo surges forward to take Rey’s nipple between her teeth, her hands pressed to the small of Rey’s back. Rey tilts her head with a groan, and her hair brushes Kylo’s fingers where they’re splayed across her bare back. Kylo reaches up with one hand and twines her fingers into the strands, pulling her so that her back arches harder and her breasts point higher, allowing Kylo even easier access. She grins, wide and wicked with her teeth glinting as Rey yelps, scrambling to steady herself on Kylo’s muscled shoulders.

Kylo switches back and forth, biting and sucking, squeezing the small mounds of Rey’s breasts with her free hand as she begins to branch upwards, kissing and nipping at Rey’s collarbones, her neck, left vulnerable by the forced arch of her back. Kylo nibbles along the edge of Rey’s jaw, soothing the bites she’s left with gentle kisses. And then she’s pulling Rey’s jaw forward, cupping her face in both of her large hands, and Rey panics. 

She can’t—they can’t kiss. But Kylo’s hands—they’re so big, her grip is so strong, Rey knows she’s doomed to follow this kiss through unless she does something quick. Panicked, she covers her mouth with her hand. 

“I don’t—we can’t.” Rey’s voice is quiet, serious. It’s at odds with the cheery, swingy beat of the music still playing in the background. 

“No kissing? It’s a shame. Your mouth is. It looks delicious.” Kylo’s eyes burn and she looks fierce, almost displeased. “But I understand. Boundaries.” 

Rey nods, relieved that Kylo seems to understand, even if she’s disappointed. 

“Well, there are plenty of other delicious places to put our mouths, now aren’t there?” Rey grins wickedly, hoping that Kylo will take the bait. 

“Is that so?” Kylo says, wrapping the long fingers of one of her hands around Rey’s, pulling their clasped hands up towards her face. Slowly, deliberately, Kylo smooths two of Rey’s fingers flat, rubbing the pads of them with her thumb before opening her mouth and wrapping her tongue around them. 

It’s the longest, quickest tongue Rey has ever encountered in her rather illustrious career. Kylo sucks and flicks at the fingers in her mouth and Rey’s eyes flutter. When Kylo pulls the fingers out of her mouth with a pop, she doesn’t relinquish her grip on Rey’s wrist, instead sliding Rey’s wet fingers down her stomach towards the warmth between her thighs. Her gaze is steady, she’s watching Rey’s face for any sign of reluctance.

Rey’s supposed to be doing this part. She’s supposed to be the one teasing and pleasuring Kylo, not—not like this. Rey’s back arches as their fingers slide against her clit and then down, to dance around her entrance before Kylo eases one of Rey’s fingers in. She continues to swirl her own finger around, and Rey’s pussy clenches when she realizes that Kylo means to slip one of her own in beside Rey’s. 

And oh— _oh_ , she can feel it. Kylo’s fingers are thicker and longer than her own, and they’re also very warm. Kylo guides their fingers in and out a few times at a leisurely pace before pulling them both out and, much to Rey’s devastated delight, sucking both fingers into her _own_ mouth. Kylo’s eyes close and she groans around the taste, obviously pleased. That’s the last straw for Rey. It’s time for her to be in charge again. 

When Kylo lets her finger go, Rey slides off of Kylo’s lap, sliding her hands along the firm, white expanse of Kylo’s legs and then stepping away. Towards the bed in the corner. Throwing a teasing glance over her shoulder, Rey beckons Kylo over with a wet finger, fully aware of what she looks like from behind as she kicks off her heels and climbs onto the bed. 

Kylo doesn’t waste any time, the chair skidding backwards a little as she propels herself out of it and towards the bed, shoving her pants off and then leaping instead of climbing onto the bed. Rey’s heart stutters as Kylo’s shadow looms over her, both palms planted on either side of her hips. Kylo looks hungry, and with her hair falling in a cloud around her head, she looks wild as well. 

“May I?” Kylo says, leaning down to drag her tongue along Rey’s ribcage. 

“If you would prefer. I’m here for you—” Rey says, arching up into the wet touch. Kylo growls and pulls at the soft skin on the underside of Rey’s breast with her teeth, sucking hard. That will leave a bruise, to be sure. Rey can’t bring herself to care—in fact, the sharp pain makes her keen, grasp at Kylo’s shoulders. Kylo laughs and then continues to leave harsh marks along her lower torso, digging her teeth in and soothing with her tongue. 

“No! I’d prefer to get a taste of you instead, if that’s amenable to you,” Kylo says between bites, her hands creeping downward to pull Rey’s legs apart. 

“Yes! Oh—yes!” Rey gasps, reaching down to clutch at Kylo’s hair as her tongue swipes along the inside of Rey’s trembling thighs. The anticipation is too much, Kylo is taking things too slowly. Rey is shaking and needy, so utterly lost that when Kylo finally wraps her lips around Rey’s clit and sucks gently, she groans and clamps her thighs shut around Kylo’s ears.

Kylo is a very spirited lover, but for all her exuberance, she’s also incredibly patient. This might just end up being the best appointment Rey’s ever had—Kylo has laid all the proper groundwork, has taken her time and let the arousal build, and now? Now Rey is steadily climbing towards her orgasm, breath quickening, muscles clenching. She fists her hands in the sheets as Kylo finds just the right spot with her tongue and focuses in. Try as she may, Rey can’t contain the whimpers and outright moans as she gets closer and closer to coming. 

For a long moment, Rey is suspended at the precipice, caught between the steady, unbearable pleasure of Kylo’s tongue and the inevitability of her climax. Rey can taste it. She’s so close to it, but she can’t, and she’s not sure why. It makes her panic, clawing at the sheets, at Kylo’s hair, her shoulders, wailing and begging. 

“Oh—Kylo, please! Please! Plea—oh!” And then she groans, long and low as Kylo spreads her wide without breaking rhythm, lapping at Rey’s clit with more pressure and speed, stroking her fingertips down the swollen folds of Rey’s outer labia and humming in encouragement. 

It’s just the little push that Rey needs, and she shakes with the force of her orgasm, coming long and hard and utterly unable to quiet her moans and panting. As Rey tries to curl her body into herself, she locks eyes with Kylo and finds she can’t look away. Kylo’s face is shiny and slick, her tongue still moving, but her eyes are sparkling. Sparkling and dancing with mirth and satisfaction. She’s smug, and Rey can see Kylo’s wide grin as she pulls away and wipes her chin with the back of her hand, stroking the folds of Rey’s pussy in a gentle, soothing motion with her free hand. 

“That was—” Rey can’t find the words to describe how that made her feel. Unfortunately, her verbal incapability only makes the smirk stretch farther across Kylo’s face, settling her features into an infuriatingly attractive arrangement. 

“That good, huh? 

Rey scoffs, but it’s half-hearted, and when she reaches out to shove at Kylo’s shoulder, her fingers are gentle, dancing over the milky skin dotted with scattered dark moles and freckles. 

“Can I….?” Rey slides her hand down, cupping her palm under the generous swell of Kylo’s breast. 

“Can you, what?” Kylo says, crawling up the bed, her gaze fixed on Rey’s mouth. At the last second she leans down to lick a stripe up Rey’s neck instead, but the damage has been done, and Rey can’t think about anything except tasting herself on Kylo’s swollen lips. 

“Can I repay the favor, so to speak?” Rey says, pinching at a dusky nipple, reveling in the way it makes Kylo’s hips jump. But the question makes Kylo suddenly bashful, unwilling to meet Rey’s eyes. Clearly, that was not what Kylo had expected her to ask.

Almost nervously, Kylo runs a hand through her hair, tousling the waves deliciously so that they fall against her cheekbones and highlight the flush that’s spread across her face, blooming pink and pretty against her white skin. 

“I—ah. It’s okay. You’ve been really great.” 

“You don’t want to come?” 

“I uh, I’ll. Later.” 

“Later? But,” Rey begins, sliding down and rubbing her hips against Kylo’s, “I’m right here, and I’m _so_ grateful to you for that _phenomenal_ orgasm.” She bites her lip and looks up at Kylo through her eyelashes, watching with satisfaction as the golden brown of Kylo’s eyes turns molten. But then her mouth tightens, and she shakes her head, averting her eyes. 

“It’s really fine.” 

“Is there something wrong?” 

“No.” 

“Can you….?” 

“Orgasm? Yes. It’s just...difficult.” 

Rey can’t stifle her laugh. “I don’t know if you know, but...I’m specially trained to handle even difficult cases. What do you need?” 

Kylo looks down, reaching up to run her hands through her hair, exposing her ears. They’re red. Rey takes this opportunity to smooth her hands over Kylo’s shoulders, hopefully soothingly. It’s not the first time a customer has been shy, or self-conscious about difficulties like this. However, this time. This time Rey feels like she needs to try her very hardest, make sure that Kylo has a good experience. 

There is no way that Kylo doesn’t leave here with an orgasm that comes as close to the best of her life as Rey can manage. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Rey says, trailing her fingertips along Kylo’s collarbones. “I can give you what you need. I _want_ to give you what you need.” 

Rey can hear Kylo inhale sharply, her hands falling to Rey’s hip, fingernails digging into the bare skin there. 

“It’s—I need more…” 

“More than what?” Rey whispers, her eyes never leaving Kylo’s. 

“More stimulation. Internal. It’s often very difficult for my...partners to help.”

“Try me.” Rey whispers. “Will you let me?”

Kylo finally allows herself to make eye contact with Rey, her eyes soft and vulnerable. After a tense silence, she nods, tersely. 

Rey can’t stop the grin that spreads across her face as she scrambles off of Kylo’s lap to reach under the bed. There’s a box, a heavy, nondescript affair that latches shut and hides out of sight. Sometimes customers are startled by the sight of some of the toys...without preparation. 

But Rey knows Kylo won’t be one of those. And she has just the thing. 

Once she finds the toy, she pulls a condom and some lubricant out (best to be prepared and safe, right?) before mounting the bed once more. Kylo’s eyes widen as Rey crawls towards her with the toy in hand. Toy, though, is a pretty tame word for this….thing. It’s intimidating, to say the least. 8 inches long and shiny silver, curved to an extreme angle. Each end has a smooth, round ball at the end, one bigger than the other. Kylo reaches out a tentative hand to touch it, and Rey readily relinquishes her hold on it while she opens the condom. 

“Does it—what does it do?” Kylo asks, her voice breaking in the middle of her sentence. 

Rey climbs into Kylo’s lap, pushing her back until she’s laying on the bed. “It’s not what the _toy_ does, per se. It’s what _I_ do with the toy.” 

Kylo’s eyes are all pupil now, her breathing is heavy and her cheeks are red. “Does it vibrate?” 

Rey, who is busy peeling Kylo’s panties off, looks up and gives a wicked grin. “No, but trust me, honey. It won’t detract.” 

Kylo looks skeptical, but she doesn’t say anything as Rey rolls the condom down the toy and rubs the lubricant down the length of it. 

“Alright, now. Spread your legs for me, okay?” and Kylo stretches her long, muscled thighs to either side of Rey’s body. Rey is bare by necessity—it’s easier to keep clean and smooth than to hassle with maintaining pubic hair. She doesn’t mind it, but sometimes she forgets what a natural woman looks and feels like. 

Kylo isn’t bare—she’s got a crop of thick, dark hair trimmed close to her skin. Rey looks up, asking permission with her eyes before she reaches out to touch, to brush her fingers over Kylo’s pubic mound. A sudden urge overtakes Rey, and she leans down, without warning, and presses her face into Kylo’s pussy, feathering kisses against her lips and around her opening, as softly as she can against Kylo’s clit. She can feel Kylo shiver, can feel Kylo reach out and tangle her fingers into the hair on the crown of her head, not pulling or pushing, just anchoring herself. 

Rey leaves one last kiss against Kylo’s clit before opening the cap of the lubricant with a soft snick and pouring some over her fingers, rolling it around to warm it up. With one last glance up to Kylo’s face, Rey swirls her fingers around Kylo’s opening to distribute the lubricant before pushing inside, carefully. Nothing about this is meant to be fast or jarring in any way. 

Kylo is tight—nervous, Rey can tell. Shifting so that she’s lying on her stomach, Rey leans in to touch her tongue to Kylo’s clit, making gentle circles around and around until she feels Kylo relax into her fingers. Then she withdraws, wiping the excess lubricant onto the toy, and pushes it inside instead. 

Kylo doesn’t react, instead fixing her eyes onto Rey’s, waiting. It takes a moment of searching, rubbing, but Rey can tell the exact moment when she finds Kylo’s g-spot because Kylo’s back arches and she lets out a strangled gasp.

Rey can’t help the smirk that spreads across her face. Instead of searching now, she simply uses the curve of the toy to rock it back and forth, pushing the bulbed end into Kylo’s g-spot with gentle, steady pressure.

Kylo is a mess instantly, planting her feet onto the bed and pushing her hips up into the toy, fingers tangling tighter into Rey’s hair. It’s never been this satisfying before, the confirmation of her intuition. She somehow knew this would be the toy that had Kylo unraveling, and here Kylo is—unraveled. 

Rey plants one elbow onto the bed and uses the leverage to rock the toy a little bit harder into Kylo. The effect is instant, like turning the dial up on a thermostat or a stereo, a perfectly incremental increase in intensity. Kylo’s hips tense a little harder, her hands clench a little tighter, she opens her mouth and moans, a low, breathy sound. Rey reaches up to tuck a reassuring kiss into the sweat-slicked skin near Kylo’s hipbone, breathing in the heady scent of her body. Then she sits up to ease the pressure in her shoulder muscles a bit. 

“Rey—” Kylo groans, letting go of Rey’s hair to cup her own breasts, too frazzled to do anything except push them together and throw her head back. Rey watches with hungry fervor as a single bead of sweat drips its way down the curve of Kylo’s neck, past her collarbones, into the exaggerated cleavage between Kylo’s fingers. If she thought she could, Rey would reach up and lick it. She’s suddenly desperate to taste as much of Kylo as she can, her sweat, her come, her skin. 

Instead she continues rocking the toy into Kylo’s pussy, slowly increasing the pressure and speed. Her spare hand she brings up to press against Kylo’s pelvis, letting the pad of her thumb rest against Kylo’s clit for a moment before she begins to rub slow circles, dipping a little lower to collect some of the wetness smeared around Kylo’s opening. 

Kylo groans again, low in her throat, almost pained. She’s starting to tense rhythmically now, her legs and hips shaking with the effort of holding her lower body up. Rey speeds up, pressing into Kylo’s g-spot harder. 

It takes a few minutes for Kylo to climb all the way up, and then she plateaus, panting and gasping, flexing her hips and sobbing in pleasure. She needs something, anything to push her over the edge, so Rey leans down and sucks at her clit, gently at first and then harder, trying to give Kylo that last nudge into climax. Kylo flails, jerking her hands back down to pull Rey closer to her pussy. The sudden movement throws Rey off balance, and she pushes down into Kylo’s pelvis a little harder in an effort to steady herself. The bulbed end of the toy pushes into Kylo’s g-spot at the same time, and Kylo’s entire body goes rigid. 

Every muscle in Kylo’s body seems to extend itself at the same time, and her mouth falls open, silent for a moment before a high, reedy cry escapes. Rey is utterly unprepared for the absolute _gush_ from Kylo’s pussy, seeping and squirting around the toy as she continues to make desperate noises, rocking her hips through her orgasm. 

It’s a long orgasm, followed by a long come-down period, with Kylo shaking and shivering in Rey’s arms. As gently as she can, Rey rubs the feeling back into Kylo’s limbs, many of which are no doubt cramped and sore. 

Good sex is a workout. This? This was great sex. 

They lie on the bed together for a while, Kylo dozing, sated and relaxed, finally. Rey strokes her hair, traces the dark moles dotted across her shoulders, drags a careful finger along the line of a muscle down her arm. Kylo is spectacularly built, a mass of sculpted limbs and pale skin, a direct contrast to Rey’s own thin, tan body. No matter how hard Rey tries, her muscle hides under her skin, giving her a false delicacy. Kylo wears her strength on her shoulders, quite literally. On impulse, Rey reaches down to lay a fluttery kiss against the swell of her upper bicep, and then another, higher, another at the base of her neck, one just below her jaw, and then Rey is flirting with her hard line, brushing her lips over the dip of Kylo’s cheek. 

It’s—It’s just not fair. Kylo’s lower lip is so full, especially the way it pouts as she sinks slowly into a deeper sleep. More than that, her lips are flushed a delicious red, still damp from sweat. Rey noses into the side of Kylo’s cheek, conflicted as her mouth edges closer and closer to Kylo’s. 

She pulls away, studying the faint purple of the veins in Kylo’s eyelids, watching them flutter as she breathes in and out. And then she leans in, slow, so slow, and carefully presses her mouth to Kylo’s, and she does mean to be quick, she does. But the first taste is so sweet that she lowers down for one more, and then another, firmer, though still as quick. The fourth quick kiss, she dares to trace her tongue along the fullness of Kylo’s bottom lip, but she freezes as she feels Kylo stir, lean up into the kiss, winding her arms around Rey’s shoulders. Her eyes flutter and Rey can feel a slow smile spreading across her lips. 

“Being sneaky?” Kylo mumbles, and every new consonant brushes their lips together, sending tiny jolts of electricity through Rey. She’s unbearably embarrassed, but she can’t concentrate on the feeling because Kylo keeps nipping and licking at her lips. 

Rey’s toes curl, her eyes slide shut, and she leans into Kylo, letting herself relax into the kiss—yes, the kiss. They’re kissing, and Rey only has a moment to agonize over the last of her barriers falling before Kylo is nudging their lips apart, reaching in to touch Rey’s tongue with hers, whisper soft. The taste of it is intoxicating, and Rey’s resistance melts until she’s letting herself rest on top of Kylo, hands threaded into her dark waves. It’s the most secure Rey has felt in….well, ever. At least between these walls. Kylo’s hands slide across her back, tightening around Rey’s waist and drawing her even closer as they kiss. And kiss. 

And kiss. 

A pounding on the door makes Rey jump out of Kylo’s arms, reaching up with trembling hands to rearrange her hair and wipe her lips. 

“Rey? Are you still in here?” A voice calls through the door. 

“Y-Yes! Just finishing up.” 

“Boss wants to shut things down in 30.” the voice calls, and Rey nods before she remembers that she needs to speak aloud. 

“Got it!” 

With a sigh, she turns to Kylo and blushes red as Kylo’s gaze slides up her body, predatory and hungry, even though they’re both exhausted and sated. 

Dressed. That’s a good start. Rey turns to scan her eyes along the room, looking for her panties and bra—ah! There. On the floor near the chair. She grimaces as she pulls the panties up her thighs. They’re still soaked. The bra is easier, and then she’s turning and exhaling again and looking at Kylo. 

“We should probably clear out of here. I’ll clean up later, don’t worry about it.” 

Kylo huffs and rolls off the bed, finding her clothes and pulling them on, her movements sluggish and stiff. Rey takes the toy and removes the condom before putting it in a bag and placing it back in the chest under the bed. It’ll need to be properly cleaned later, but this will do for now. 

Kylo dresses quickly, smoothing the thin tank top down over the belt of her jeans. As she pulls her shoes on, she glances up at Rey and clears her throat. 

“Do you, by chance, have—uh, would you want...coffee? Or something?” 

Rey’s cheeks flush pink. “You want to...get coffee with me?” 

“Well, it’s probably a bit late for coffee, but I don’t want—” Kylo huffs, tying the last knot on her boots and straightening. She avoids looking Rey in the eye. “I don’t want to leave you yet.” 

Rey blushes harder, and she fidgets, feeling suddenly naked in her lingerie in a way she’d never felt in front of a client. This is somehow emotionally intimate, and that makes her feel bare, too exposed. She needs some clothes if they’re going to keep having this conversation. 

“How about...can we meet out front in 20? I need some clothes and….my stuff. We can talk then.” 

Kylo nods, standing up and walking towards Rey. Rey can’t move, she’s trapped by the heavy weight of Kylo’s gaze. When they’re standing chest to chest (or as close as they can get with the ridiculous height difference between them), Kylo reaches up and touches Rey’s face, rubbing the pad of her thumb along her cheekbone. A sudden, sweeping rush of affection races through Rey. She’s nearly naked, there’s so much skin. Kylo could have touched her anywhere—has, in fact, paid for that privilege—and she chose to touch her face. 

“I’ll wait as long as you like.” Kylo says, her voice lower, quieter. 

**Author's Note:**

> There is just not enough femslash in the reylo fandom.


End file.
